





Ciepigr^oxter 




Class P535 3 

(TiXERIGHT DEPOSm 



THE BALLADE 
OF MARY MAGDALENE 

AND OTHER POEMS OF 

George Baxter 



MCMXXII 



COPYRIGHT MCMXXII BY 

DOROTHY USNER BAXTER _ ^"^ 







MapMihe 



FEB-7'23 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 

BY THE MELOMIME PUBLICATIONS INC., 

192 WEST lOTH STREET, NEW YORK. 



C1A690274 

I - 



i 



THE POEMS OF GEORGE BAXTER 



OF WHICH THERE ARE NINE-HUNDRED-AND-NINETY- 
NINE COPIES, PRIVATELY PRINTED AND SIGNED, THIS 
COPY BEING NUMBER 



MCMXXII 



3n iHemoriam 



GEORGE BAXTER 

June Twenty-seventh 1868 
February Tenth 1917 

WITH THE FIRM FAITH OF HIS 
UNDERSTANDING MATE IN 

THAT FRAILER THING THAN LEAF OR 
FLOWER— A POETS IMMORTALITY, 

SHE OFFERS TO A WORLD IN 
WHICH HE WALKED AMONG 
SHADOWS A SHADOW AND 

FROM WHICH HE WAS TAKEN 
UNHONORED AND UNSUNG 
THESE VERBAL VIOLETS FROM 
THE GARDEN OF HIS SOUL. 




FROM A PORTRAIT BY M. A. RASKO. 



LONDON, 1913 



^be 



VERY LITTLE CAREST THOU 

IF THE WORLD NO LAUREL-BOUGH 

SET IN THY DEAD HAND, AH ME! 
BUT M Y HEART TO GRIEVE ALLOW 

FOR THE FAME THOU SHALT NOT SEE ! 



YET MY HEART TO GRIEVE ALLOW, 
WITH THE GRIEF THAT GRIEVES IT NOW, 

LOOKING TO FUTURITY, 
WITH TOO SURE PRESAGING HOW 

FOOLS WILL BLIND BLIND EYES FROM THEE: 



THOUGH WHAT AVAILS? — THE IVIES TWINED 
BY THINE OWN HAND THOU MUST UNBIND, 

WHEN THERE THY TEMPLES LAID SHALL BE: 
'TIS HAPLY DEATH'S PREVISION KIND 

THAT UNGIRT BROWS LIE EASILY. 

FRANCIS THOMPSON. 



PAGE 

THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 1 

ALAIN CHARTIER TO THE WHITE QUEEN BLANCHE 21 

LAVs 24 

BALLADE TO THE DUCHESS OF FLIRTINGTON 33 

THE SONG OF ADAM 36 

THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 37 

THE MOTHER FAITH 50 

THE LOST EDEN 51 

A TRIBUTE TO SIR HENRY IRVING 55 

A BALLADE TO DEAD LOVERS 56 

SONG OF GUINEVERE'S PASSING 58 

HAUNTED 59 

TO MY SOUL'S MATE 60 

A VALENTINE 63 



THE BALLADE 
OF MARY MAGDALENE 



I. __ IN WHICH THE WOMAN OF MAGDALA 
FLOUTETH JUDAS OFKERIOTH, AND FIRST 
BEHOLDETH LORD CHRIST THE SON OF 
MAN. 



3T WAS A GIRL OF MAGDALA, 
AND SHE WAS YOUNG, AND VERY FAIR. 
LIKE TO A POPPY BUD HER MOUTH, 
AND UKE SPUN GOLD HER HAIR. 



SHE DWELT IN HIERUSALEM 

AND MARY WAS THE DAMSEL'S NAME; 
HER NIGHTS WERE SPENT IN REVELRY, 

AND ALL HER DAYS IN SHAME. 



WHENAS SHE ROSE AT SET OF SUN j 

AND TURNED THE DRUNKEN JUDAS OUT, 1 

SHE DONNED HER SCARLET RAIMENT, AND ^ 
MADE READY FOR THE ROUT. 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



WITH CRIMSON DYES SHE TOUCHED HER CHEEKS, 
SHE DRESSED HER HAIR WITH GARLANDS GAY, 

AND THEN ONCE MORE SHE FARED FORTH 
TO WALK HER EVIL WAY. 



SHE SOUGHT THE CROWDED CITY'S STREETS, 
FILLED FULL WITH NOISY REVELLERS; 

AND AS SHE PASSED MEN SPAKE UPON 
THE BEAUTY THAT WAS HERS. 



AND EAGERLY SOME CLUTCHED HER ARM, 

AND WHISPERED RUDE WORDS IN HER EAR; 

AND WITH RUDE WORDS SHE ANSWERED THEM— 
KNOWING NOR SHAME NOR FEAR. 



HARD WAS HER HEART, AND HEAVY TOO, 

AS THROUGH THE LIGHTED^WAYS SHE FARED. 

(SHE HATED ALL MEN BITTERLY, 

AND TOLD THEM WHEN SHE DARED.) 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



SHE TRAFFICKED IN THE OPEN STREETS, 

FOR ALL SHE LOVED WAS SHINING GOLD, 

AND WANTONLY SHE OFFERED THERE 
HER BEAUTY TO BE SOLD. 



GOOD WOMEN DREW THEIR ROBES ASIDE, 

AND OLD MEN CURSED HER AS SHE PASSED, 

UNTIL, WITH EAGER FEET, SHE GAINED 
THE MARKET PLACE AT LAST. 



HARD BY A VINTNER CRIED HIS WARES. 

SHE SNATCHED A CUP AND DRAINED IT DRY- 
AND AS SHE DRAINED, AND DRANK AGAIN, 

THE GENTLE CHRIST DREW NIGH. 



THE DEAR LORD CHRIST DREW NIGH, AND STOPPED, 
AND SPOKE TO HER WITH TENDER MIEN: 

"GOD'S GRACE BE WITH THEE, CHILD, " HE SAID 
TO MARY MAGDALENE. 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



THE WANTON HEARD HIM WITH AMAZE, 

AS ONE WHO HEARS SOME NEW, STRANGE THING, 

AND, LO, IT SEEMED THAT IN HER HEART 
A BIRD BEGAN TO SING ! 



SHE STOOD A MOMENT THUS, AND THEN 

SHE LAUGHED IN SCORNFUL MERRIMENT, 

AND RIBALDLY SHE MOUTHED AT HIM 
AS ON HIS WAY HE WENT. 



THEN SUDDENLY SHE CEASED, AND GAZED 

ADOWN THE WAY THAT CHRIST HAD GONE; 

AND THEN, WITH TEAR-DIMMED EYES, SHE TURNED 
AND WENT TOWARD HOME — ALONE. 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



IL — WHEREIN THE SINNING WOMAN IS 
BIDDEN FREELY TO GO HER WAY, AND 
THE SCRIBES AND PHARISEES ARE CON- 
FOUNDED. 



(9f^^ IN THE FLOWERING TIME OF SPRING, 
)cl CHRIST TOOK HIS WAY FROM OLIVET, 
ADOWN THE WINDING PATH TO WHERE 
THE TEMPLE GATES WERE SET. 



THE DAWN SMILED ON HIM AS HE PASSED. 

BIRDS SANG FROM EVERY LEAFY LIMB, 
AND SWEET-FACED FLOWERS BOWED THEIR HEADS 

IN SILENT PRAISE OF HIM. 



WHENAS HE REACHED THE TEMPLE COURT, 
HE SAT HIM DOWN AWHILE TO REST, 

AND GIVE THE WORD OF BROTHERHOOD 
TO THOSE WHO LOVED HIM BEST. 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



BY NOW AMIDST THE MOTLEY PRESS 

WERE MANY A SCRIBE AND PHARISEE, 

WHO HAD COME THENCE TO DO CHRIST ILL 
BY CRAFT AND SUBTILTY. 



SO, WHEN A LITTLE SPACE HAD PASSED, 
AND JESUS ROSE, AS IF TO SPEAK, 

THEY DRAGGED BEFORE HIM, STANDING THUS, 
A WOMAN, FRAIL AND WEAK. 



IT WAS A BAUD OF MAGDALA, 

CAUGHT SHAMELESS IN HER SHAMEFUL SIN, 
AND DOOMED TO CRUEL DEATH, ALONE — 

HAVING NOR KITH NOR KIN. 



SHE STOOD BEFORE HIM TREMBLINGLY, 

HER ROBE RENT WHERE ROUGH HANDS WERE LAID; 
AND SHE WAS YOUNG, AND VERY FAIR, 

AND BITTERLY AFRAID. 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



THUS, THEN, WITH SNEERS AND QUESTIONINGS, 
THE PHARISEES AND SCRIBES BEGAN — 

SEEKING IN SUCHWISE TO FOREDO 
LORD CHRIST, THE SON OF MAN: 



"NOW, THOU WHO SCOFFETH ANCIENT LAWS, 

AND MOCKETH ALL THINGS THAT HAVE BEEN, 

WHAT SAYEST THOU FOR THIS COURTESAN — 
THIS MARY MAGDALENE? 



"FULL IN HER SIN THE BAUD WAS FOUND, 
AND, LO, THE LAW OF MOSES SAITH 

SHE SHALL BE TAKEN FORTH AND STONED, 
UNTIL SHE DIE THE DEATH!" 



CALMLY THE MASTER HEARD, THEN STOOPED, 
AND MADE A WRITING ON THE SAND, 

WHILE FRIEND AND FOE EXPECTANT STOOD, 
AND WATCHED HIS MOVING HAND. 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



THEN HE AROSE AND SPOKE — AND ALL 

GOD'S LOVE SEEMED COMPASSED IN HIS TONE 

"LET HIM," HE SAID, "WHO HATH NO SIN 
BE FIRST TO CAST A STONE." 



THEY HEARD WITH AWE; AND THERE WAS NONE 
IN ALL THAT THRONG TO SAY HIM NAY; 

AND ONE BY ONE THE CRAFTY CREW 
SLUNK GUILTILY AWAY. 



WHENAS THE LAST HAD PASSED WITHOUT, 

CHRIST RAISED THE SOBBING WOMAN, AND 

HE SPAKE SWEET WORDS TO COMFORT HER, 
THE WHILE HE HELD HER HAND. 



"BE OF GOOD CHEER," HE SOFTLY SAID, 

"THOUGH ERSTWHILE THOU WERT STRICKEN SORE, 
THY SOUL MAY BE MADE CLEAN THROUGH LOVE. 

GO NOW, AND SIN NO MORE." 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



///.— MARY MAGDALENE SEETH THE MAS- 
TER TORTURED AND CONDEMNED, AND 
FOLLOWETH HIM TO GOLGOTHA. 



MITHIN THE SOMBRE PALACE WALLS 
SHE HEARD THEM CRY OUT FOR HIS BLOOD • 
SHE HEARD THEM CRY, AND SHE WAS NIGH 
TO SWOONING WHERE SHE STOOD. 

HERSEEMED AS IF HER VERY LIFE 

WAS EBBING FROM HER, WATCHING THERE, 
AND ALL HER SOUL REACHED UP TO GOD 

IN ONE HEART-BROKEN PRAYER. 

SHE SAW, IN MOCKING REVERENCE, 

THE MADDENED CROWD BEFORE HIM BOW, 

AND PRESS THE CRUEL CROWN OF THORNS 
DEEP IN HIS PALLID BROW. 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



SHE SAW THE HEAVY KNOTTED SCOURGE 
ENCIRCLE THRICE ABOVE HIS HEAD 

AND CUT INTO HIS NAKED FLESH 
UNTIL THE BLOOD RAN RED. 



THROUGH ALL THE MASTER STOOD SERENE 
AS FOREST POOLS AT EVENTIDE, 

THOUGH AGONY DWELT IN HIS EYES 
AND PAIN STAYED AT HIS SIDE. 



THEY SPAT UPON HIM, IN HER SIGHT; 

SHE HEARD THEIR SHRIEKS DEMONIAC; 
SHE SAW THEM LIFT THE HEAVY CROSS, 

AND BIND IT ON HIS BACK. 



AND AS HE STAGGERED FORTH IN PAIN, 

SHE SOBBED ALOUD HER DULE AND DREE, 

WHAT TIME CHRIST TOOK HIS WEARY WAY 
UNTO MOUNT CALVARY. 



10 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



SHE SAW HIM STUMBLE, AS HE WALKED, 
BENEATH HIS BURDEN AND HIS PAIN; 

AND, AS HE FELL, SHE SAW THEM LASH 
HIS BLEEDING BACK AGAIN, 



THEN STROVE SHE HARD TO REACH HIS SIDE, 
AND GIVE HIM COMFORT IN HIS WOE, 

WHEREAT THE JEALOUS JUDAS CAME 
AND FELLED HER WITH ONE BLOW. 



BRAVELY SHE STRUGGLED TO HER FEET, 

AND, WEEPING BLINDLY, FOLLOWED ON, 

MARKING THE SAVIOURS TREMBLING STEPS, 
BY HIS BLOOD ON THE STONE. 



11 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



IV. — WHEREIN SHE WITNESSETH THAT 
MOST DOLOROUS CRUCIFIXION OF OUR 
LORD, AND HEARETH HIM PRAY FOR 
HIS ENEMIES. 

IGH ON THE BLEAK GOLGOTHA HILL 

THERE CAME THE ENDING OF HIS WAY, 
WHILE MARY, SORROWING, STOOD APART 
TO WATCH, AND WEEP, AND PRAY. 



SHE SAW THEM NAIL HIM TO THE TREE, 
AND RAISE HIS BRUISED BODY HIGH, 

AND GATHER ROUND WITH OATHS AND JESTS — 
FOR JESUS CHRIST TO DIE! 



NO MOAN MADE HE, NOR SOUND, UNTIL 

TOWARD HEAVEN THEY SAW HIM TURN HIS EYES, 

AND, WITH A VOICE THAT THRILLED WITH LOVE, 
PRAY FOR HIS ENEMIES. 



12 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



SHE HEARD HIM GIVE WITH STRENGTH FORESPENT 
HIS PROMISE TO THE DYING THIEF — 

AND HER POOR HEART WAS LIKE TO BURST 
IN PITY AND IN GRIEF. 



SHE HEARD HIS GROAN OF ANGUISH, WHEN 
WITH HIS LAST FEEBLE BREATH, HE CRIED 

TO GOD, HIS FATHER, AND THEN BOWED 
HIS WEARY HEAD AND DIED ! 



LO, THEN THE HEAVENLY THUNDERS ROLLED. 

NIGHT CLOAKED THE SUN WITH SABLE WING, 
AND WHEN MEN SAW WHAT THERE BEFELL, 

THEY CREPT HOME, SHUDDERING! 



13 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



V.—THE SAINT OF MAGDALA STAYETH 
AT THE FOOT OF THE CROSS, AND IS 
PARDONED OF HER SINS. 



3T WAS A SAINT OF MAGDALA, 
WHO SOFTLY MADE HER WAY AMONG 
THE FRIGHTENED THRONG, UNTIL SHE REACHED 
THE CROSS WHEREON CHRIST HUNG. 



IT WAS A SAINT OF MAGDALA, 

WHO STAYED THERE PRAYING, AS WAS MEET; 
AND AS SHE PRAYED, AND MADE HER MOAN, 

SHE KISSED HIS MANGLED FEET. 



SHE KISSED HIS BLEEDING FEET, AND PRAYED, 
AND AS SHE PRAYED, SHE HEARD THE RING 

OF JOYOUS MUSIC— AND SHE KNEW 
SHE HEARD THE ANGELS SING. 



14 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



AND THEN, UNTO HER GLADDENED HEART, 
A SOFT VOICE WHISPERED FROM ABOVE: 

"WEEP NOT, O MARY, ALL IS WELL — 

AND THOU ART SAVED, THROUGH LOVE!" 



FORESPENT FOR JOY, SHE SWOONED AND FELL, 

WHILE THROUGH THE AWFUL STORM AND GLCOM 

SWART JUDAS, GROANING IN DESPAIR, 
SPED DOWNWARD TO HIS DOOM. 



15 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



VI _ WHEREIN THE MAGDALENE FINDETH 
THE DEAD JUDAS, AND PRAYETH, NOT 
IN VAIN, FOR HIS FORGIVENESS. 



TBfT SEEMED A WHOLE ETERNITY 
S AS PRONE BENEATH THE CROSS SHE LAY, 
WHAT TIME A GRIM CENTURION CAME 
AND BADE HER GO HER WAY. 



SHE TREMBLED DOWN WITH HALTING STEPS, 
LIKE TO SOME HURT THING OF THE NIGHT. 

HIGH O'ER THE HILL A SINGLE STAR 
BURNED LIKE A BEACON LIGHT. 



"IT IS THE STAR OF LOVE", SHE SAID, 
AND EVEN JUDAS — EVEN HE ! — 

MAY HOPE FOR PARDON NOW THAT CHRIST 
HATH DIED FOR HIM, AND ME — 



16 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



•FOR HIM, AND ME, AND ALL THE WORLD, 
HE GAVE HIS LIFE THIS DAY OF DAYS; 

AND ALL MANKIND SHALL WORSHIP HIM, 

AND ALL EARTH SING HIS PRAISE!" * * * * * 



BEYOND THE VALE JEHOSHOPHAT 

A JACKALS BARK THE ECHOES WOKE, 

AND FROM THE HOLLOWS OF THE GHOR 
SHE HEARD A RAVEN CROAK. ***** 



THE CITY'S GATE WERE SHUT AND BARRED 

THE CITY'S STREETS WERE HUSHED AND STILL 

THE WHOLE WORLD SEEMED TO BE AS DEAD 
AS THE DEAD CHRIST ON THE HILL. 



SHE WANDERED HERE, SHE WANDERED THERE, 
SHE STUMBLED BLINDLY IN THE DARK, 

UNTIL BY KEDRON'S BROOK SHE FOUND 
A DEAD MAN, STARING STARK. 



17 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



IT SEEMED AS THOUGH THE PARENT TREE 
HAD CAST AWAY THE SHAMEFUL LIMB 

WHEREFROM THE TRAITOR'S BODY HANGED, 
IN VERY SCORN OF HIM. 



GENTLY SHE LOOSED THE AWFUL ROPE, 

SOFTLY SHE CLOSED THE FRIGHTENED EYES, 

AND SOOTHED DEAD JUDAS AS ONE SOOTHES 
A SICK CHILD WHEN IT CRIES. 



THEN PITEOUSLY SHE MADE HER MOAN: 

"GOD KNOWS, GOD KNOWS HE LOVED ME WELL, 

ELSE NEVER WOULD HE THUS HAVE SUNK 
HIS SOUL DOWN DEEP IN HELL!" 



SHE KNELT AND PRAYED. "DEAR LORD," SHE SOBBED, 
"THOU KNOWEST WELL THAT SUCH AS WE 

ARE BUT AS BURNT GRASS OF THE PLAIN, 
AS SPINDRIFT ON THE SEA. 



18 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



"BLINDER THAN BLIND BARTIMEUS 

HE WANDERED NAKED IN THE NIGHT; 

WHICHEVER WAY HE TURNED HE FOUND 
NO SINGLE RAY OF LIGHT. 



"THOUGH WITH A POISONED SPEAR HE SOUGHT 
UPWARD TO REACH AND PIERCE THY HEART, 

O, LET THIS BE THE HOUR, DEAR GOD, 
TO PROVE HOW GREAT THOU ART! 



"FOR SAID NOT CHRIST THAT ONE WHO LOVED" 

(SHE SOOTHED THE CORPSE WITH TENDER TOUCH) 

"AS MUCH AS POOR, LOST JUDAS LOVED 
SHOULD BE FORGIVEN MUCH ? 



"LORD, IN THY MERCY, GRANT HIM GRACE ! 

HIS DEED WAS DONE THROUGH LOVE, ALONE; 
AND FOR HIS SIN UNTO THY SON 

LET THY SONS LOVE ATONE!" 



19 



THE BALLADE OF MARY MAGDALENE 



AS ON THE TRAITOR'S BREAST SHE SANK 

SHE FELT THE COLD BLOOD IN HIM STIR — 

AND, LO ! THE GAUNT EYES OF THE DEAD 
OPENED, AND SMILED AT HER. 



OPENED AND SMILED, AND CLOSED AGAIN — 
WHILE O'ER HIS FACE THE PERFECT PEACE 

THAT PASSETH UNDERSTANDING CAME, 
IN SYMBOL OF RELEASE. 



AND BY THESE TOKENS, MARY KNEW 

HOW JUSTIFIED HAD BEEN HER FAITH * * 

IN ECSTACY, ON JUDAS' NECK 

SHE KISSED THE SCAR OF DEATH. 



PARIS, 1906 



20 



ALAIN CHARTIER TO 
THE WHITE QUEEN BLANCHE 



-TT KNOW A POET, A POOR WORTHLESS WIGHT, 

^ WHO HATH SO LITTLE PART OF LAND OR GOLD 

THAT HE INDEED WERE PLACED IN DOLOROUS PLIGHT 

IF IT BE TRUE THAT LOVE IS BOUGHT AND SOLD. 
ALTHOUGH OF GOODS AND CHATTELS HE HATH NONE, 

AND HIS POOR HOME IS BUT A WAYSIDE BED 
YET IS HE RICHER FAR THAN MANY A ONE 

IN PALACE HALL, OR CASTLE TURRETED ! 
HE HATH NO GLORY, YET HIS SONG ENJOINS 

ATT. GENTLE FOLK TO GRANT HIM COURTESY; 
HE HATH NO GOLD, SAVE WHAT HIS FANCY COINS, 

AND YET HE HOLDS THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD IN FEE ! 



21 



ALAIN CHARTIER TO THE WHITE QUEEN BLANCHE 



FOR IN HIS MIND HE HATH A WONDROUS DREAM — 

A DREAM SO BEAUTEOUS, AND, WITHAL, SO RARE, 
THAT IF THOU COULDST BEHOLD IT, IT WOULD SEEM 

THAT EVEN THOU WOULDST DEIGN TO CALL IT FAIR. 
'TIS OF A LAND ENGIRT WITH FAERY HILLS, 

TO ENTER WHICH ONE NEEDS MUST BREATHE THY NAME, 
WHEREAT THE VERY BIRDS, IN JOYOUS TRILLS, 

ACCLAIM THY GLORY AND THY BEAUTY'S FAME! 
THERE THE WARM SUNSET SIFTS THROUGH SIGHING TREES 

TO KISS THE FLOWERS THAT BRIGHTEN ALL THE FIELDS; 
AND AMOROUS BROOKS INVITE THE WANTON BREEZE 

TO TASTE THE SWEETNESS THAT THEIR BOSOM YIELDS. 



22 



ALAIN CH ARTIER TO THE WHITE QUEEN BLANCHE 



IT IS A LAND WHERE EVERY SECRET WAY 

ENFOLDS A BOWER WHERE LOST LOVERS MEET 
TO WHISPER WORDS THEIR LIPS HAVE YEARNED TO SAY 

THROUGH ALL THE WEARY YEARS OF LOVES DEFEAT. 
A LAND OF LIGHT AND JOY, OF REST AND PEACE, 

WHERE PAIN DWELLS NOT, NOR SIN CAN EVER BIDE; 
A PARADISE, WHERE SAD HEARTS FIND SURCEASE 

FROM SORROW, AND THE DOLE OF LOVE DENIED. * * * * 
AND THERE, ENTHRONED ON THE TOPMOST HEIGHT, 

WHERE ALL MAY PAY THEE HOMAGE — THERE THOU ART, 
FIRST LADY OF THE LAND OF PURE DELIGHT, 

QUEEN REGNANT OF THE KINGDOM OF MY HEART! 



TO MY DOROTHY. 
27 JUNE, 1907. 



23 



LAIS 



{PLAINT OF THE POET LYCIDAS TO CREON, 
HIS FRIEND AND PATRON.) 



'W AIS THE FAIR, LAIS THE TENDER-EYED 
3^ WHOM HALF THE MEN OF ATHENS MADLY LOVE 
IS FALSE AS HELL! TO ME HER TONGUE HATH LIED 
A THOUSAND TIMES; AND THUS MY WORDS I PROVE: 



THOU KNOWEST, CREON, WHERE HER VILLA REARS 

ITS MARBLE FRONT UPON AGFA'S SHORE: 
'TWAS GIVEN HER BY PROTUS IN THOSE YEARS 

WHEN SORROW CLAIMED HIM NOT AND GRIEF FOREBORE 



TO TOUCH THE MAN WHOSE SLAVE ALL ATHENS WAS. 

BUT WHEN THE RED DAY CAME THAT PROTUS FELL, 
THE END TO HIM WAS TWICE CALAMITOUS — 

FOR LOSING GREECE, HE LOST FAIR LAIS AS WELL, 



24 



LAIS 



AND WELCOMED DEATH! * * * THUS, EVEN PROTUS LOST! 

AND THUS, I SAY, EVEN ALL MANKIND FARES 
WITH HER; AYE, EVEN HE AT WHOSE GREAT COST 

SHE NOW MAKES MERRY WHILE HIS DOOM PREPARES. * * * * 



TWAS THERE, THEN, IN HER VILLA BY THE BLUE 
AND SUNLIT SEA WE DWELT, APART FROM CARE; 

LIVING OUR UVES AS GODS ARE WONT TO DO, 
WITH ROSES, ROSES, ROSES, EVERYWHERE, 



AND SAMIAN WINES TO MAKE OUR PULSES LEAP, 
AND SOFT SEA WINDS TO MAKE THEM COOL AGAIN, 

AND BRING TO WEARIED LIMBS THE LANGUOROUS SLEEP 
THAT SOOTHES SO GENTLY AFTER LOVE'S SWEET PAIN. 



WHEN YON FULL MOON WAS CRESCENT IN THE SKY 
WE SAT WITHIN HER BOWER, DEW-EMPEARLED, 

AND WATCHED GREAT ARGOSIES GO SAILING BY, 
BOUND FOR FAR DISTANT PORTS ACROSS THE WORLD. 



23 



LAIS 



UNHEEDED THEN. THE DA^'S SWEPT SWIFT ALONG, 
LOST IN THE EDDIES OF TIME'S TURGID STREAM, 

AND LIFE BECAME BUT AS SOME SELF SUNG SONG, 
SET TO THE MYSTIC MUSIC OF A DREAM. * * * * 



(AH, LOVE I THE MEMORY OF THOSE PERFECT NIGHTS 
SHALL LIGHT MY WAY ALONG THE WEARY YEARS 

WHEN AGE WALKS W^ITH ME, AND YOUTH'S LOST DELIGHTS 
ARE PHANTOMS, FLITTING THROUGH A MIST OF TEARS.) 



MY LAIS SEEMED TO LOVE ME MUCH— AT TIMES, 
AND THEN, AGAIN, WITH NYMPHLIKE COQUETRY 

SHE'D FLOUT ME SORELY— TILL MY PLEADING RHYMES 
AND FERVID SONGS WOULD WOO HER BACK TO ME. 



WHENAS I FIRST GAZED IN HER WITCHING EYES, 

AND FELT THE TUMULT OF HER SOFT WARM BREAST, 

AND SAW HER HAIR BEDRAPE HER, MANTLE-WISE 
AS IF TO HIDE THE BEAUTIES IT CARESSED; 



26 



LAIS 



WHENAS THE FLUTELIKE MUSIC OF HER VOICE 
FIRST MURMURINGLY FELL UPON MY EAR, 

BETHINK YOU, FRIEND, MY RIGHT WAS TO REJOICE? 
AYE, BY THE GODS. BUT ALL I FELT WAS FEAR ! 



AYE, CREON, FEAR! DESPITE LOVE'S WHISPERING, 

I LOOKED BENEATH HER MASK, AND FOUND THERE LAY 

A SPELL LIKE LAMIA'S, WHOM POETS SING, 
A SPELL TO CHARM, AND AS IT CHARMED, TO SLAY! 



FOR THIS IS WHAT I LEARNED IN THAT FIRST NIGHT — 
(DAZED AS I WAS FROM HAVING GAINED LOVE'S GOAL) 

THROUGH THE THICK RAPTURE OF NEWFOUND DELIGHT 
I SEARCHED— AND SAW THAT LAYs HAD NO SOUL! 



SHE HAD NO SOUL, I SAY; AND IN HER HEART — 

BLACK AS THE PIT AND HOT AS HELL'S OWN FLAME — 

DWELT EVERY WILE AND EVERY HIDEOUS ART 
TO DRAG MEN DOWN TO THEIR ETERNAL SHAME. 



27 



LAIS 



CLOTHED ALL ABOUT IN BEAUTY SHE APPEARED, 
AND WORTH AND GRACIOUSNESS; BUT, EVEN SO, 

HER BEAUTY WAS A BEAUTY TO BE FEARED, 

HER WORTH, UNWORTHINESS THAT BRINGETH WOE! * * * * 



SO PASSED THE DAYS UNTIL DUN AUTUMN CAME, 
WHEN FAR AND NEAR, THE WORD, LIKE WILDFIRE SPREAD, 

THAT HAUGHTY ATHENS WAS IN LOUD ACCLAIM 
TO WELCOME HOME THE CONQUERING DIOMED. 



FROM PERSIAN WARS HE CAME, A WARRIOR CLAD 
IN GLORY; ON HIS BROW, DEEP-DYED IN BLOOD, 

FAME'S CHAPLET HUNG. LIKE TO A RACE GONE MAD 
GREECE BOWED BEFORE HIM AS BEFORE SOME GOD. 



FED ON THESE RUMORS, LAIS RESTLESS GREW— 
SHE MUST STRAIGHTWAY TO ATHENS, TO BEHOLD 

THIS DIOMED, AND PROVE HERSELF HOW TRUE 

WERE ALL THE WONDROUS TALES SHE HAD BEEN TOLD. * * * *= 



28 



LAIS 



so CAME WE HERE. * * * * WHEN HIS CONQUERING EYE 
FIRST LIGHTED ON FAIR LAIS' RADIANT FACE, 

I KNEW THE ENDING OF MY DREAM WAS NIGH, 
AND DIOMED WOULD LORD IT IN MY PLACE. 



HE TRICKED THE FANCY OF THE FICKLE JADE 

BY HIS GREAT DEEDS, AND THEN, AFLAME TO PLEASE, 

HE WOOED HER HOTLY, AND BROUGHT TO HIS AID 

RICH GIFTS OF GOLD WROUGHT THINGS, FROM OVERSEAS. * * ♦= 



THINK ON IT, CREON! THROUGHOUT ALL MY DAYS 
MY PRIDE SHALL NOT AGAIN KNOW SUCH A FALL — 

TO HEAR GREECE RINGING WITH A BUTCHER'S PRAISE, 
WHILE I, HER POET, STOOD UNMARKED BY ALL! 



AYE, EVEN BY LAIS! THE STORIES OF 
THE DARING DEEDS OF OUR VICTORIOUS GREEK 

HAD TOUCHED HER FANCY AND HAD WON HER LOVE 
ERE SHE HAD SEEN HIM, OR HAD HEARD HIM SPEAK! 



29 



LAIS 



AND NOTING THIS I SILENTLY WITHDREW 

AND LET THEM HAVE THEIR WAY. 'TWAS BETTER SO; 

BESIDES, FORSOOTH, THERE WAS NAUGHT ELSE TO DO 
FOR LOVE GROWN COLD IS COLD AS UNSUNNED SNOW 



THEN I, TOO, HAD GROWN TIRED. NAY DO NOT SMILE ! 

TO DOUBT MY WORD WOULD DO ME GRIEVOUS WRONG. 
THE HOTTEST FIRE DIES IN A LITTLE WHILE, 

AND ONE GROWS WEARY OF THE SWEETEST SONG. 



SO THUS I LEFT HER WITH HER LATEST LOVE — 
THIS DIOMED— A RUDE, BLOODTHIRSTY KNAVE, 

WHO LITTLE RECKS SHE HOLDS HIM BUT TO PROVE 

HOW ATHEN'S HERO CAN BE MADE HER SLAVE. * * * * 



JEALOUS OF DIOMED, THOU SAYEST? NOT SO — 

THOURT WRONG, GOOD FRIEND,— THAT SIGH WAS NOT FOR HER 
BUT FOR DEAD LOVE. CREON, I'D HAVE YOU KNOW 

I AM BOTH POET AND PHILOSOPHER. 



30 



LAIS 



IF SHE HATH JOY OF HER SINEWY MATE — 

IF IN GOOD TRUTH, SHE HATH FOUND HAPPINESS — 

THEN LET HER HOLD IT FAST. AN UNKIND FATE 

HATH DOOMED POOR MORTALS TO SO MUCH DISTRESS 



THAT I BEGRUDGE NOT HER, NOR ANYONE, 

THE CRUMBS OF JOY THAT THEY MAY SNATCH FROM LIFE. 
THE DEAREST LOVE CAN NEVER QUITE ATONE 

FOR ITS OWN PAIN; NO MORE THAN PEACE FOR STRIFE. 



AROUND THE CORNER LURKETH NOW, OLD AGE, 
AND AT HIS ELBOW STANDETH DEATH, THE KING. 

THEY WAIT FOR LAYs. AND NO MAN CAN GUAGE, 
IN YEARS TO COME, HER DEPTH OF SUFFERING ! 



BEHIND THOSE EYES, NOW LIT WITH YOUTHS BRIGHT LIGHT, 

IS SET, IN MOCKERY, A GRINNING SKULL; 
HER BODY, GLORIOUS IN ALL MEN'S SIGHT, 

IS BUT A BANQUET FOR FOUL WORMS TO MULL! 



31 



LAIS 



so AGE AVENGETH ALL. THERE'S NOT A DAY 
THAT YOUTH MAY FILCH FROM MORTAL MISERY 

BUT TIME, THE USURER, SHALL GET HIS PAY 
WITH TENFOLD INTEREST IN DULE AND DREE. * * 



WITH DIAN'S FIGURE, APHRODITE'S FACE, 
DAINTY AS HEBE, AND AS PALLAS LEARNED, 

SHE SHOULD BE SET IN BEAUTY'S SACRED PLACE, 
AND BY HER ALWAYS SHOULD LOVELIGHTS BE BURNED. 



BUT THERE LET TRIBUTE END ! SCORN CANNOT BRING 
DISPRAISE TO BEAUTY. * * * * DIOMED, BEWARE. 

SHE IS A WANTON AND AN EVIL THING 

WHOSE HEART IS BLACKER THAN HER FACE IS FAIR. 



(MY LOVE, MY LAIS, CAN MY SOUL'S APPEAL 
NOT WIN THEE BACK? AH, THOU KNOWEST TOO WELL 

I WOULD FOREGO ELYSIAN BLISS TO FEEL 

THY KISSES STING MY FAMISHED LIPS IN HELLl) 



32 



BALLADE TO THE 
DUCHESS OF FLIRTINGTON 



'YOU SPARE NO TROUBLE, RECK NO PAIN, 

TO ADD ANOTHER NAME UNTO 

THE BEAD ROLL OF THE HEARTS YOU'VE SLAIN." 



TENNYSON. 



J^LL MANY A BARD, IN MANY A TONGUE, 
-^ HATH TOLD THE PRAISES OF THE FAIR ; 

IN BURNING WORDS THEIR SONGS WERE SUNG 

TO THOSE THEY HELD BEYOND COMPARE. 
ALAS, NOW MY POOR HEART IS BARE ! 

DAN CUPID HATH ASSESSED HIS TOLL, 
AND LOVE, PERFORCE, I MUST DECLARE — 

AND ADD MY POOR NAME TO THY BEAD ROLL. 



33 



BALLADE TO THE DUCHESS OF FLIRTINGTON 



"GOOD LUCK HATH HE THAT DEALS WITH NONE"! 

THUS DID THE SAD-GLAD VILLON WRITE. 
PRAY WAS HE FOOL— OR WISDOMS SON 

THAT HE SHOULD THUS THY SEX INDICT? 
A LOOK AT THEE WOULD SURE INCITE 

THE JADED SENSES OF HIS SOUL — 
ERGO, I PRITHEE, IN THY MIGHT, 

TO ADD MY NAME TO THY BEAD ROLL. 



34 



BALLADE TO THE DUCHESS OF FLIRTINGTON 



OH, DANTE, TASSO, PETRARCH, ALL 

WHOVE KNOWN THE PAIN OF BLIND LOVES DART, 
IS THERE NO FREEDOM FROM THIS THRALL? 

IS THERE NO UNGUENT FOR THIS SMART? 
TELL ME, I PRAY, EARTH-BORN ASTART? 

SHALL I THUS VOICE A PLAINTIVE DOLE ? 
WITH ALL THE WORLD I'D GLADLY PART 

TO ADD MY NAME TO THY BEAD ROLL ! 

ENVOY. 

DUCHESS, SO WONDROUS FAIR THOU ART, 

I'LL PLEDGE THEE IN ONE BRIMMING BOWL, 

AND ASK THEE ONLY THIS, DEAR HEART: 

ADD MY POOR NAME TO THY BEAD ROLL ! 



FIRST VALENTINE TO 
DOROTHY USNER, 1900. 



35 



THE SONG OF ADAM 



^ir HY LIPS ARE AS RED AS THE POPPIES THAT BLOW IN THE 
%Q/ GARDEN OF KHEM 
AND THEIR DEW GIVETH LIGHT TO A HEART THAT WAS WITH 

ERED AND DEAD; 
AS WHITE AS THE IVORY NEW SAWN ARE THY VIRGINAL 

BREASTS, 
AND THE CLASP OF THY GLORIOUS ARMS WOULD CAUSE KING- 
DOMS TO FALL. 
BLUE, BLUE IS A GLIMPSE OF THE SEA THROUGH THE TREES 

ON THE SHORE; 
BUT THE SEA HATH NO HUE LIKE THE WONDERFUL BLUE 

OF THINE EYES. 
WHATSOEVER SHALL LIST WILL BE CHARMED BY THE PSALT'RY 

AND SHAWM, 
YET THEIR MUSIC IS MEAN WHEN COMPARED WITH THE TONES 

OF THY VOICE. 
AS THE RIPPLE OF BROOKS BOUNDEN DOWN TO THE MUR- 
MURING SEA, 
IS THE SOUND OF THY MIRTH WHEN THOU LAUGHEST ALOUD 

IN THY JOY. 
SOFT UNTO THE TOUCH IS THE SILK FROM THE LOOMS OF 

THE EAST, 
BUT THY HAIR IS FAR SOFTER THAN AUGHT EVER BROUGHT 

FROM CATHAY. 
WHEN YOUR ARMS CLASP MY NECK AND OUR LIPS BECOME ONE 

MELTING MOUTH, 
I REEL LIKE A MAN THAT IS MAUDLIN FROM DRINKING 

OF WINE; 
AND I WOULD ENFOLD THEE ABOUT, AS ENFOLDETH THE 

ZEPHYR THE ROSE — 
FOR THY LOVE IS MY HEAVEN, THOU DEAREST, THY COLDNESS 

MY HELL. 



FROM "THE TESTAMENT OF JUDAS", 
WRITTEN AT EIGHTEEN. 



36 



THE KNIGHT 
AND THE LURLEY MAID 

A CHRISTMAS BALLADE OF GOOD COUNSEL 



'C 



WAS IN THE RARE OLD FEUDAL TIME — THE DAY OF DIM 
TRADITION - 

WHEN ERRANT KNIGHT, IN ARMOR DIGHT, RODE FORTH ON 
ROVING MISSION; 



WHEN TROUBADOUR, IN GAY ARRAY, BESOUGHT THE LOVE- 
LORN MAIDEN, 

AND WARBLED AIRS TO BANISH CARES FROM HEARTS WITH 
SORROW LADEN. 



'TWAS IN THOSE DEAR ROMANTIC DAYS OF JOUST AND 

MARTIAL GLORY, 
A MAIDEN, FAIR BEYOND COMPARE, DWELT ON A 

PROMONTORY. 



37 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



BELOW HER SWIFTLY FLOWED THE RHINE, ITS WATERS 
BRIGHTLY GLEAMING, 

WHILST DEAD MEN'S BONES AMONGST THE STONES BORE WIT- 
NESS TO HER SCHEMING. 



FOR, LO ! SHE WAS THE LURLEY MAID —SHE WHOSE TRANSCEN- 
DENT SINGING 

CHARMED EVERYONE WHO HEARD HER TONE IN DULCET 
RAPTURE RINGING! 



CHARMED EVERYONE WHO HEARD, AND SENT HIM STILAIGHT- 

WAY TO PERDITION — 
FOR ONCE TO HEAR HER ACCENTS CLEAR MEANT WOE BEYOND 

REMISSION. 



FOR ONCE TO HEAR HER MEANT TO LOVE, AND LOVING MEANT 

UNDOING: 
LOST WAS THAT KNIGHT WHOSE RAPT DELIGHT URGED HIM 

UNTO HER WOOING! 



38 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



ONE CHRISTMAS EVE, WHILE HIGH ABOVE THE GIBBOUS MOON 

WAS BEAMING, 
IN THE PALE MOONLIGHT THERE RODE A KNIGHT WITH 

CUIRASS BRIGHTLY GLEAMING. 



A NOBLE KNIGHT, WHOSE NAME IS KNOWN IN SONNET, SONG 
AND STORY — 

HANS ABERLARD VON ROTHENBARD, HERSOG VON ALLE- 
GORY. 



RETURNING FROM THE HOLY WARS— A BOLD AND FIERCE 

CRUSADER, 
WHOSE FALCHION TRUE HAD OFT CUT THROUGH THE SARACEN 

INVADER. 



HE RODE ALONG RIGHT MERRILIE, A LIGHTSOME LOVE SONG 

VOICING: 
HIS HEART WAS LIGHT, THE MOON WAS BRIGHT, HE WENT HIS 

WAY REJOICING. 



39 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



BUT HARK ! WHAT IS THAT SOUND HE HEARS, SO SWEETLY ROUND 

HIM RINGING? 
RICH, HIGH AND CLEAR IT SMOTE HIS EAR. FORSOOTH, 'TWAS 

LURLINE SINGING ! 



"AHA!" THE AMOROUS DUKE EXCLAIMED. "SOME MAIDEN WAITS 

HER LOVER. 
"DAN CUPID'S DART HATH PIERCED HER HEART, WHATE'ER ITS 

PRUDISH COVER. 



"ODSWOUNDS! I'LL LINGER HERE AWHILE, AND WOO THE 

WINSOME FAIRY. 
"FOR LOVES DELIGHT, BASE IS THE KNIGHT WHO WOULD NOT 

HALT OR TARRY!" 



WHILE SPEAKING THUS HE UPWARD LOOKED. YE GODS ! THAT 

SIGHT ELYSIAN! 
THE EVIDENCE OF SIGHT TO SENSE WAS PROOF IT WAS 

NO VISION. 



40 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



FOR, HIGH ABOVE HIM, ON THE ROCK THAT OVERLOOKED THE 

WATER, 
STOOD FAIR LURLINE, THE SIREN QUEEN — KIND NATURE'S 

LOVLIEST DAUGHTER. 



THERE STOOD SHE IN THE PALE MOONLIGHT, WHILE HANS, 

DOWN BY THE RIVER, 
OBSERVES HER CURVES AND ALL HIS NERVES ARE INSTANTLY 

A-QUIVER. 



"NOW BY MY DREAMS OF LOVE!" HE CRIED, THOU ART AN 

EARTH-BORN VENUS ! 
"HERE WILL I BIDE, WHATE'ER BETIDE NOR NAUGHT SHALL 

COME BETWEEN US !" 



HE QUICK DISMOUNTED FROM HIS STEED, BENT ON A GENTLE 

AMOUR. 
{UNHAPPY FATE! IN CAPTIVE STATE SHE'LL HOLD HIM WITH 

HER GLAMOUR!) 



41 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



BY DEVIOUS PATHS HE REACHED HER SIDE. (ALAS, THE KNIGHT'S 

UNDOING!) 
IN FRENZIED GLEE HE BENT HIS KNEE, WITH SWEET INTENT 

OF WOOING. 



BUT, LO! SHE BADE HIM TO ARISE, AND COYLY THEN RE- 
TREATING, 

SHE LED HIM FAR 'NEATH CRAG AND SPAR, BENT ON HIS DOOM 
COMPLETING. 



SHE LED HIM FAR 'NEATH CRAG AND SPAR, HE MINDING ALL 

HER WISHES 
('TWAS EVIDENT 'TWAS HER INTENT TO FEED HIM TO THE 

FISHES.) 



BUT WHEN THEY REACHED THE CAVERN DEEP WHERE GHASTLY 
SKULLS WERE GRINNING 

SLY HANSCHEN STAYED TO WOO THE MAID IN MANNER WON- 
DROUS WINNING: 



42 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



BY COCK AND PYE! FAIR MAID," QUOTH HE, "THOU SILVERY- 
VOICED ENSLAVER, 

THY UPPER G QUITE CAPTURED ME, SUSTAINED WITHOUT A 
QUAVER! 



IF MY APPLAUSE SEEMS BOLD, DEAR ONE, PRAY PARDON MY 

EFFRONT'RY, 
FOR SUCH SWEET TONE WAS NEVER KNOWN IN THIS OR OTHER 

COUNTRY. 



"WHY STAY YE ON THIS BARREN ROCK, Y'CLAD SO VERY 

LIGHTLY, 
■WHEN YOU MIGHT BE A CORYPHEE, AND BRING THE HOUSE 

DOWN NIGHTLY ? 



AND CHRISTMAS EVE, TOO ! OF ALL THINGS THIS MOST LACKS 

RHYME AND REASON 
TO FIND A MAID THUS UNARRAYED AGAINST THE WINTRY 

SEASON. 



43 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



■COME HENCE, AWAY, AND BE ATTIRED AS BEST BECOMES YOUR 

GRACES, 
'IN FLOUNCE, AND BOW, AND FURBELOW, AND RARE VALEN- 

CIENNE LACES. 



•FOR YOU'RE BEDIGHT, CONTRARY, QUITE, TO MODERN PRUDISH 

NOTION; 
'AND, I CONFESS, YOUR PRESENT DRESS WOULD CAUSE A VAST 

COMMOTION. 



'HAVE PITY, SWEET, IF IN YOUR BREAST THERE BEATS A HEART 

THAT'S HUMAN — 
'TO FIGHT THE TURK IS EASY WORK COMPARED WITH WOOING 

WOMAN! 



THEREFORE I PRITHEE, BEAUTEOUS ONE, UPON ME TAKE 

COMPASSION 
'AND COME WITH ME TO GAY PAREE— THE TOWN OF FUN AND 

FASHION. 



44 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



'YOU SHALL HAVE GOLD, AND GOWNS GALORE, AND DIAMONDS 

BRIGHTLY SHINING, 
•IF YOU BUT WILL MY HEART TO STILL, AND BID ME CEASE 

REPINING; 



'IF YOU WILL MY HEART TO STILL, TO DROWN THE PAST WELL 

TRY, LOVE, 
AND THAT OLD TOWN WE'LL DO UP BROWN— OR KNOW THE 

REASON WHY, LOVE. 



"HERE AT YOUR FEET I HUMBLY SUE, UPON MY KNEE A-KNEEL- 

ING. 
"PRESTISSIMO! AWAY WE GO, IF YOU HAVE HEART OR 

FEEUNG !" 



HE CEASED. THE LURLEY BOWED AND BLUSHED— THEN WHIS- 
PERED SWEET AS HONEY, 

"l WILL BE TRUE, DEAR KNIGHT, TO YOU' (ASIDE— "WHILE 
YOU HAVE MONEY!") 



45 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



DOWN IN HER HEART SHE SCORNED HIS SIGHS, AND SPURNED 

HIS DEEP DEVOTION. 
BUT WHEN HE TOLD HER OF HIS GOLD— AH! THEN SHE 

SHOWED EMOTION. 



SHE KNEW NOT WHAT IT WAS TO LOVE, SHE FELT NO THRILL 
OF PASSION; 

THE ONE SOFT PART OF HER HARD HEART HE TOUCHED BY NAM- 
ING FASHION. 



WHEN NEXT THE WORTHY PAIR WERE SEEN 'TWAS IN THE 

MERRY CITY, 
WHERE FAIR LURLINE REIGNED YET A QUEEN, SANS MERCY 

AND SANS PITY. 



FOR YET SHE WON THE HEARTS OF MEN IN DIMITY AND 

LACES, 
AS WHEN SHE SUNG WITH SILVERY TONGUE, AND CHARMED 

WITH OTHER GRACES. 



46 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



AS FOR THE FOOLISH ROTHENBARD; WITH JEWELS, WINES 

AND SUPPERS 
(FROM WHICH HIS PURSE WAS MUCH THE WORSE), HE SOON 
WAS ON HIS UPPERS. 



GONE ARE THE DAYS OF FEAST AND FUN, THE NIGHTS OF WINE 

AND WASSAIL, 
FOR WHICH HE PAID, THE SILLY JADE! WITH TITLE, LANDS 

AND CASTLE. 



AS EBBS THE TIDE OF FORTUNE SO DOES SHE FROM LOVE 
RECOVER — 

WHEN HE'D RUN THROUGH HIS EVERY SOU, SHE FOUND AN- 
OTHER LOVER. 



THE LURLEY MAID LIVES TO THIS DAY— AND WILL LIVE ON 

FOREVER; 
SHE LIVES TO-DAY, AND WILL FOR AYE, NOR TIME HER CHARM 

CAN SEVER. 



47 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



FOR, WIT YOU WELL, AS YEARS GO BY HER POTENCY 

ENHANCES. 
ONCE IN HER POWER, BESHREW THE HOUR ! — THROUGH LIFE ON 

HEARTS SHE DANCES. 



GOOD SIR, MAYHAP THIS NIGHT YOULL MEET, AT SOME OCCAS- 
ION FESTAL, 

A DAMSEL FAIR, WHO HAS, YOU'LL SWEAR, THE VIRTUE OF A 
VESTAL. 



IT MAY BE SHE ! GO NOT TOO NEAR - HER AIM SHE NEVER 

MISSES — 
SHE'LL STEAL YOUR SOUL FROM YOUR CONTROL, AND KILL 

YOU WITH HER KISSES. 



SHE'LL STEAL YOUR SOUL FROM YOUR CONTROL, AND DO IT 

TOO, SO NEATLY 
THAT YOU'LL NE'ER GUESS HER GUILEFULNESS UNTIL YOU'RE 

DONE COMPLETELY. 



48 



THE KNIGHT AND THE LURLEY MAID 



HER WANTON WILES ARE CLAD IN SMILES THAT QUICKLY DO 

THEIR MISSION — 
SHELL SNARE YOUR HEART WITH HORRID ART AND DOOM YOU 

TO PERDITION. 



THEREFORE, I PRITHEE, SIR, ESCHEW THE EYE THAT'S BEAM- 
ING. 

BEWARE THE EYE, BEWARE THE SIGH, BEWARE THE MODEST 
SEEMING — 



YOU'D BEST BEWARE ALL WOMEN FAIR, OR ELSE EXPECT NO 

MERCY. 
YOU CAN NOT TELL, TILL IN HER SPELL, WHICH ONE WILL BE 

YOUR CIRCE! 



49 



THE MOTHER FAITH 



jg|OURS WERE THE HANDS THAT HELD ME FIRST OF ALL, 

2^ YOURS WERE THE LIPS THAT TAUGHT ME HOW TO SMILE, 

YOURS WERE THE EYES THAT WATCHED MY EVERY STEP, 

YOURS WAS THE HEART THAT SHOWED ME LOVE WORTH WHILE; 
WHAT EVER GOOD IS IN ME, PART OR WHOLE, 
IS BUT THE DEAR REFLECTION OF YOUR SOUL! 

WHEN OTHERS LAUGHED AT ALL MY DREAMS, YOU HELD 

THOSE DREAMS — AND ME — CLOSE TO YOUR LOVING BREAST, 

GIVING ME STRENGTH TO TRY, AND WHEN I FAILED, 
YOUR FAITH ALONE STOOD FIRM ABOVE THE REST. 

FOR YOU BELIEVED SOME DAY I WOULD SUCCEED — 

THE FINEST SPUR THAT ANY MAN COULD NEED ! 

AND SO, TO-DAY, THOUGH FAR FROM WHAT I SOUGHT, 
THE GOAL UNREACHED, THE PRIZE AS YET UNWON, 

YOUR HANDS STILL HOLD ON HIGH MY WAV'RING HOPE 
AS ONCE THEY HELD MY BABY SELF — YOUR SON. 

OH, MOTHER-MINE, TOGETHER, HAND IN HAND 

WE'LL WIN ! IF NOT, YOU STILL WILL UNDERSTAND ! 



TO LAURA PETTIT BAXTER. 



50 



THE LOST EDEN 



'jr OVE TAUGHT ME, THEN, THE ONE WAY TO WOO HER — 
5w IN THE GOLDEN DAYS WHEN THE WORLD WAS YOUNG 
AND ALL OF MY SOUL I GAVE UNTO HER, 
AND ALL OF MY SONGS FOR HER WERE SUNG. 



( HEART OF M Y HEART ! Ai Y SOUL'S UNDOING, 
I CHARGE AGAINST THEE, IN MY BITTERNESS, 

FOR I LOST MY SOUL IN THY SOUL'S WOOING— 

AND I WOULD TO GOD I COULD LOVE THEE LES5\) 



51 



THE LOST EDEN 



WE DWELT IN AN EDEN OF OUR OWN MAKING — 
MY LOVE AND I, IN THOSE DEAR DEAD DAYS — 

AND WE DREAMED BRIGHT DREAMS ERE THE FATAL WAKING, 
AND JOY WALKED WITH US IN ALL OUR WAYS. 



{SOUL OF MY SOUL, WILT THOU EVER CHERISH 
THAT T09-BRIEF DAY WHEN TRUE LOVE WAS KING? 

AH I WOULD THAT MY YEARNING FOR THEE MIGHT PERISH, 
WITH THE PIERCE FOND PAIN OF ITS FINISHING \) 



SWEET WAS OUR EDEN, AND FAIR OUR BOWER — 
IN THE HIGHEST HEAVEN NO FAIRER PLACE— 

THE BIRDS SANG TO US, AND EVERY FLOWER 

SEEMED MADE IN THE IMAGE OF HER FAIR FACE. 



(HEART OF MY HEART, THY LOVE WAS A GUERDON 
GREATER THAN ALL THE WORLD COULD GIVE — 

YET IT WEARETH ME NOW LIKE A HEAVY BURDEN 
THAT WILL WEIGH ME DOWN ALL THE YEARS I LIVEl) 



52 



THE LOST EDEN 



AYE, FAIR WERE THE CLOSES WHERE OUR LOVE CENTERED — 
BUT BRIEF WAS THE TIME THAT WE DWELT THEREIN — 

FOR INTO OUR EDEN ONE DAY THERE ENTERED 
A SERPENT AS LOATHSOME AS NAMELESS SIN ! 



{SOUL OF MY SOUL, DOST THOU NOT REMEMBER, 
IN THE BOOK OF BOOKS, WHAT THE \FISE ONE SAITH? 

EACH EYE OF THE SNAKE IS A BURNING EMBER, 
AND THE TOUCH OF HIS FANGS IS WORSE THAN DEATH.) 



ALL THE EVIL OF EARTH IN THE SNAKE'S EYES GLISTENED — 
GLISTENED AND BURNED AS WITH HELL'S OWN FLAME. 

AND MY LOVE? SHE WAS LURED TO HIS SIDE, AND LISTENED, 
LISTENED, AND LINGERED, AND FELT NO SHAME. 



( HEART OF MY HEART ! MY SOUL CONFESSES 

I LOVE THEE YET, TO THE UTTERMOST\ 
AND I FEEL THY LIPS IN THEIR WARM CARESSES. 

LIKE THE BLIGHTING TOUCH OF AN UNLAID GHOST.) 



53 



THE LOST EDEN 



SHE LINGERED AND LISTENED, MY TENDER FLOWER, 
NOR HEEDED MY PLEA THAT SHE STAND APART; 

AND THAT WAS THE END OF OUR EDEN BOWER, 
AND THIS IS THE END OF OUR DREAM, MY HEART. 



(DEATH OF MY L1FE\ MY SOULS UNDOING 
AGAINST THEE I CHARGE IN MY BITTERNESS, 

FOR I LOST MY SOUL IN THY SOUL'S WOOINGl ***** 
AH\ GOD, DEAR GOD, LET ME LOVE HER LESSl) 



54 



A TRIBUTE TO SIR HENRY IRVING 



Jf 



AREWELL, GREAT SOUL— GREAT PLAYER OF GREAT PARTS! 
KNIGHT-ERRANT OF A MOST UNKNIGHTLY AGE, 

FAREWELL! YOU DIED BUT TO BE BORN AGAIN, 
UNTO A LARGER FAME; 



AND THUS TO LIVE FOREVER, IN MEN'S HEARTS, 

AS ONE FULL FIT FOR THAT IMMORTAL STAGE 

TROD BY THE DEATHLESS DEAD WHO LEFT NO STAIN 
UPON AN EARTHLY NAME. 



55 



A BALLADE 
TO DEAD LOVERS 



^M|RAY, GENTLE SIRS, OF WHOM OLD POETS TELL, 

i|p NOBLES AND KNIGHTS THAT LIVED IN DAYS OF YORE: 

WHAT HAVE YE GAINED SINCE YE YOUR SOULS DID SELL 

THAT YE OF EARTHLY PLEASURE MIGHT KNOW MORE? 
WHAT DOTH IT PROFIT YE ON STYX'S SHORE 

TO KNOW THAT HERE YE GLORIED FOR A SPELL ? 
FAIN WOULD WE LEARN SINCE YE HAVE GONE BEFORE 

HOW PASSETH TIME NOV IN THE COURTS OF HELL? 



HOW FARETH LAUNCELOT, WHO 'ERE HE FELL 

A THOUSAND KNIGHTS IN BATTLE OVERBORE; 
AND FOR THE LOVE HE COULD NOT HOPE TO QUELL 

HIS KNIGHTHOOD AND HIS FEALTY FORESWORE? 
HOW FARETH HE WHOSE HEART ACHED TO ITS CORE 

FOR BEATRICE— AND WHOSE MORTAL SHELL 
GALLED HIS GREAT SOUL AS 'TWERE A BURDEN SORE? 

HOW PASSETH TIME NOW IN THE COURTS OF HELL? 



56 



A BALLADE TO DEAD LOVERS 



AND ABELARD, WHO IN HIS MONKISH CELL 

FAILED FOR LOVE'S SAKE ON HEAVENLY THINGS TO PORE: 
DOES HE NOW WANDER IN SOME STYGIAN DELL 

WITH HER WHOSE IMAGE ON HIS HEART HE WORE? 
HOW BIDETH TRISTRAM, SINCE HIS DAYS ARE O'ER, 

(BELOVED OF MATRON AND OF DAMOSEL ?) 
AND HE WHO WITH FAIR JULIET LEARNED LOVE'S LORE? 

HOW PASSETH TIME NOW IN THE COURTS OF HELL? 



ENVOY. 

DEAR GALLANT LORDS WHO BRAVELY PAID LIFE'S SCORE, 
AND IN THIS NARROW WORLD NO LONGER DWELL: 

TELL US, WHO YET SOME SOME SWEET, FAIR FACE ADORE, 
HOW PASSETH TIME NOW IN THE COURTS OF HELL? 



57 



SONG OF 
GUINEVERE'S PASSING 



|EATH STALKETH THROUGH THE LAND, 
AND WITH UNSPARING HAND, 
HE SMITETH ONE AND ALL INCURIOUSLY. 

OR PRINCE IN PALACE HALL, 
OR HUMBLE SLAVE IN THRALL, 

FROM HIGH AND LOW HE TAKETH HIS GRIM FEE. 



BUT FROM HIS HEAVEN ABOVE 

GOD SENDETH MORTALS LOVE, 
TO GIVE SWEET SOLACE FOR ALL SUFFERING: 

AND LONG AS LOVE SHALL REIGN 
FOUL DEATH MAY RAGE IN VAIN — 

FOR LOVE AND LOVE ALONE, SHALL BE OUR KING ! 



FROM HIS POETIC DRAMA, "LAUNCELOT AND GUINEVERE- 
WRITTEN IN PARIS, 1908. 



58 



HAUNTED 



[HEN CAME THE HOUR THAT FAINT LOVE FELL ASLEEP, 
I CREPT UNTO HIS SIDE 
AND WITH BOTH HANDS I DROVE THE KNIFE IN DEEP — 
AND THUS LOVE DIED. 

THEN, FAR WITHIN A CYPRESS FORESTS SHADE, 

WHILE NO SUN SHONE ABOVE, 
WITH STEALTHY HASTE A SECRET GRAVE I MADE, 

AND LAID DEAD LOVE. 

COLD WAS HE THEN, AS WINTER SNOWS ARE COLD, 

HIS THROBBING PULSES STILLED; 
WAN WERE HIS EYES THAT ONCE HAD BEEN SO BOLD, 

HIS WARM HEART CHILLED. 

AYE, HE WAS DEAD — QUITE DEAD ! — BUT THAT SAME NIGHT 

I LEARNED WHAT I HAD LOST — 
TREMBLING I WOKE, AND THERE BEFORE MY SIGHT 

STOOD DEAD LOVE'S GHOST! 



59 



TO MY SOUL'S MATE 



^I^NE OF US TWAIN, DEAR HEART, MUST PASS SOME DAY 

^^ BEYOND THE BORDER AND FAR, FAR AWAY 

FROM ALL EARTH'S BEAUTY AND THE SUNS SWEET LIGHT 

INTO THE MURK OF THE APPALLING NIGHT. 

ALONE AND UNCONSOLED, ONE OF US TWAIN 

MUST SIT IN PATIENT SILENCE, NOR COMPLAIN 

TILL DEATH ONCE MORE SWINGS WIDE THE MYSTIC GATE 

BEYOND WHICH STANDS THE EAGER-WAITING MATE. 



60 



TO MY SOULS MATE 



AH, MY BELOVED, THOUGH WE MAY NOT KNOW 

WHICH ONE OF US SHALL BE THE FIRST TO GO; 

NOR MAY WE KNOW WHAT HOUR ONE MUST LEAVE 

THE OTHER HERE ALONE, TO BIDE AND GRIEVE 

THROUGH ALL THE WEARY YEARS THAT SEPARATE 

THE PARTING AND THE MEETING AT THE GATE, 

YET IN MY HEART OF HEARTS I KNOW FULL WELL 

THAT "MID THE FLOWERY FIELDS OF ASPHODEL 

WE TWO AGAIN SHALL MEET; AND PURIFIED 

BY SORROWS WE HAVE PASSED THROUGH, HAVING DIED, 

WE TWO SHALL MEET AND GREET, AND IN THE SIGHT 

OF WELCOMING ANGELS THERE RENEW THE PLIGHT 

OF LOVE WHICH GOD HATH GIVEN US TO BE 

HIS DEATHLESS TOKEN OF ETERNITY. 

THEN WILL I PRESS MY CHEEK TO THINE AND SIGH 

IN THE NEW RAPTURE THAT CAN NEVER DIE — 

AND GOD HIMSELF WILL SMILE IN TENDER WISE 

TO SEE THE JOYOUS LOVELIGHT IN OUR EYES. 



61 



TO MY SOUL'S MATE 



DEAR GOD, SHE IS SO SOFT, SO KIND, SO SW^'EET, 
SO TIMOROUS AND AFRAID — HER LITTLE FEET 
COULD NEVER TREAD, UNBRUISED, THE STONY PATH 
THAT THREADS THE AWFUL VALLEY OF THY WRATH \ 
WHEREFORE, I PRAY THEE, LORD, THAT WHEN THE DAY 
SHALL COME FOR HER TO WALK THE DISMAL WAY 
I, ALSO, MAY BE CALLED; AND, HAND IN HAND, 
WE TWO MAY CROSS THE LAND OF THORN AND SAND 
AND COME, AT LAST, TRANSFIGURED, FACE TO FACE, 
BEFORE THE BOUNDLESS GLORY OF THY GRACEl 



LONDON, 1911. 



62 



A VALENTINE 



, AY — AND YOUR IMAGE EVER BY MY SIDE, 

NIGHT — AND THROUGH THE DARK, ONE STAR, AFLAME; 
LIFE — THOUGH ALL THE HEART OF ME HAS DIED, 
DEATH — AND ON MY LIPS YOUR NAME! 



LAST LINES WRITTEN BY GEORGE BAXTER 
TO DOROTHY USNER AT HIS HOME, HARMON- 
ON-HUDSON, ONE WEEK BEFORE HIS DEATH. 



63 



IrJale 



■PEACE, PEACE! HE IS NOT DEAD, HE DOTH NOT SLEEP! 
HE HATH AWAKENED FROM THE DREAM OF LIFE. * * * 
HE HAS OUTSOARED THE SHADOW OF OUR NIGHT. 
ENVY AND CALUMNY AND HATE AND PAIN, 
AND THAT UNREST WHICH MEN MISCALL DELIGHT, 
CAN TOUCH HIM NOT AND TORTURE NOT AGAIN. 
FROM THE CONTAGION OF THE WORLDS SLOW STAIN 
HE IS SECURE. ***** 

HE LIVES, HE WAKES — 'TIS DEATH IS DEAD, NOT HE; 
MOURN NOT FOR ADONAIS. * * * - * 
HE IS GATHERED TO THE KINGS OF THOUGHT 
WHO WAGED CONTENTION WITH THEIR TIMES DECAY, 
AND OF THE PAST ARE ALL THAT CANNOT PASS AWAY. * * * 
DUST TO THE DUST: BUT THE PURE SPIRIT SHALL FLOW 
BACK TO THE BURNING FOUNTAIN WHENCE IT CAME, 
A PORTION OF THE ETERNAL, WHICH MUST GLOW 
THROUGH TIME AND CHANGE, UNQUENCHABLY THE SAME." 

SHELLEY ON THE DEATH OF KEATS. 



THIS BOOK IS PRINTED IN HAND 
SET GARAAWND TYPE. THE PLATES 
WERE DESTROYED AND THE TYPE 
DISTRIBUTED UPON THE COMPLE- 
TION OF THIS LIMITED EDITION. 



MELOMIME PUBLICATIONS INC., NEW YORK. 



